Feet on the Couch: Night Train

by Lois RH Balzer

  kiddo,” he yelled over the noise, improvising on the drum Sandburg had used on him.

  Sandburg pulled himself off the couch, staggered to his bedroom and promptly got tangled trying

  to get his jacket off. With one hand still caught in the sleeve of his jacket, he pounded the top of

  his CD player, stopping the thundering noise issuing from it. “Oh, God. My head hurts.”

  “I thought the music was supposed to clear your sinus passages.”

  “Shut up,” Sandburg muttered, peeling off his clothes then heading to the bathroom.

  Oh, it was going to be a fun few days, Ellison thought with a smile, then hung up Sandburg’s

  jacket.